He sat down under a pine tree, and waited. He hadn't seen Iris since last night, when he had gotten his sleeping bag and slept in the woods. He was secretly afraid to face her again — after last night, he knew he had gone too far, and he daren't think of the effect his bestiality would have on her and on their marriage.
Hearing a crackling of the underbrush, he jumped up and was relieved to see Carla running towards him. He held out his arms and she ran into them, and he folded her in close to his heart. She was the bright spot in his life these days, and he eagerly looked forward to the hours he would spend with her.
After a moment, she wordlessly slipped to her knees on the ground before him and began to toy with his sunburned legs, running her hands up and down the sensitive inner thighs. John groaned — he could never cease to be amazed at the expertise and hunger with which Carla had managed to practice her lovemaking. In a few short weeks she had changed from a young schoolgirl to a love-ripened Goddess. Now, she played her fingertips along his legs, teasing the erotic area, and pulling childlike on the profuse hair which covered his thighs.
Boldly, she slipped out her tongue and ran the tip of the smooth pink organ along his flesh, which tickled as if crawling with insects. He stroked her shining black hair, and closed his eyes, giving himself up completely to the sensuous caresses.
He felt a tug at his Bermudas — looking down, he saw that Carla was toying with the fly zipper. Finally, she managed to unhook the top and slide the metal down, and his shorts slipped effortlessly to his ankles. His prick, in the wakening stages of erection, looked out sleepily at the sunshine.
Carla began to stroke it with her fingers, the tips of her nails barely scraping the flesh. She cupped his balls, dangling low between his legs, as yet unaware of the attention, and weighed them in her palm. She searched through the wiry pubic hair, pulling the matted dark curls, and slid a finger down between his legs, and wormed it along to where his anus lay between his clenched buttocks. Then she returned her attention to his growing prick and began to massage the fleshy organ, rolling it between her two palms, all the while pulling gently on it as if she were striving to lengthen it that way. Under his eyes, he could see it become infused with reddish color, the head took on more obese proportions and the whole length of it began to protrude from the forest of his pubic hair like a proud oak tree. The blue veins were raised against the smooth top surface, and they seemed to palpitate beneath the, young girl's touch. He could feel her fingers grate along the webbed underside, and she began to probe at the base where it separated from his loins, digging at the foundation, sending thrills of hitherto unknown joy scurrying through him.
Then, he felt the delicious contact of warm moist lips on the burgeoning head, and with a sigh, he felt more and more of the length being enclosed in her soft, buttery young mouth. Looking down, he saw that her eyes were closed, and her silken hair was falling down over her face and onto his prick, where it tickled the fleshy protuberance tantalizingly. He saw her ovalled lips slide down the full length and he could hardly believe it when he felt the head of his cock touch all the way to the back of her throat. Surely she'll choke, he thought to himself, but he made no move to withdraw his hardened rod from her willing mouth. He could feel his sensitive flesh ripple along the ridged roof of her mouth and he could barely discern the sharp edges of her teeth as they glided over his slippery length.
His balls were still cupped protectively in her palm, and the other hand was clasped around what little remained of his prick, where it furled and unfurled around the base stimulating it on to even greater length.
Inside her velvety mouth, her tongue teased the tiny opening at the head of his cock, darting in and out of the slit, trying to suck whatever cum might be lurking there.
Her teeth pressed gently against the under channel, playing with its venous surface, and her lips slipped up and down, stopping just under the spreading folds of the head as her hand drew the instrument out.
Carla labored on as if in a trance. Her head pumped abandonly from side to side, slavishly licking every inch of the monstrous pole, sucking harder and harder, her tongue swirling faster and faster. She could taste the mildly sweet-sour taste of John's cum which was beginning to form at the tiny opening, and the bloated head felt heavy in her mouth. Her hand automatically pumped at the sperm-loaded balls, frantically pummeling them, trying to send their life-giving seed on their way. She could feel the hard knobby head pressing painfully against her larynx, but she made no move to ease the giant instrument a little further out of her lips — instead she seemed to be trying to swallow even more of it in her completely filled mouth.
A blissful rapture was seeping all over John. He felt as if his head were floating, reaching up for dizzy sensual heights. He felt as if every muscle and vein in his body were bursting with passion and he felt sure smoke must be rising from his skin, so intense were the fires burning inside him. The water and trees around him swam before his eyes, and he foolishly felt that the whole universe had started to spin faster on its axis, and that he and Carla alone were standing still in the world.
Just when the beginnings of a wild, uncontrollable release were starting to take hold of him, the warning ray that never sleeps in the human brain, regardless of the situation, tolled an alarm. Dimly, he was aware of footsteps behind him, and he tried to turn his head to see who the intruder was. But all his faculties were concentrated on the tremendous pounding of pleasure that was hammering away in his loins, and he anxiously strained for the ultimate release.
Suddenly, the world was spinning, and John felt himself falling. For a split second, he was confused. He thought he had reached an unknown pinnacle of pleasure and that he was cumming, but he hit the ground with a thud so hard that it removed all his doubts.
Dazed, he sprawled there, arms and legs awry, and tried to focus his swimming eyes on what was happening. He was aware of girlish voices, and could barely make out Carla laughing, seemingly no longer interested in his prick that was burning with its unshed passion. Another voice caught his ears. It sounded familiar but who was it? With an effort, he turned his head and made out a slight female shape looking down at him. For a moment, his heart turned a somersault and he thought it was his wife, Iris, who had discovered them, but thankfully his vision cleared allowing him to see that the third party was Nancy Harper! What is she doing here? he thought, puzzled. She was dressed in a brief swimming suit, her long blond hair blowing in the summer breeze. The sun shone through her golden mane, sending curious shafts of glowing light reflecting on his face, until he thought she was some sort of heavenly being appearing before a mere mortal in all her celestial array. With an effort, he tried to raise himself to his arms, and was finally able to grunt: "Nancy, what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here, Mr. Harrault?" she echoed, a mocking sound in her still-childish voice. He could hardly believe that this mini-temptress standing over him, hands on hips, was the same timid Nancy who crept mouselike around the camp. "The Younger Generation" flashed through his mind and he shook his head.
Then he felt a weight on him. He was aware of two female bodies jumping on him, and then all he felt was a tangle of naked arms and legs. They pulled at him, tugging on his limbs, and succeeding in rolling him over and over until he found himself at the edge of the lake. The water lapped in on the three of them, writhing there on the shore, drenching his tee shirt. He heard himself laughing, and he began to splash the water over the two sprites, and they cavorted and played at the water's edge like three young dolphins. He felt his tee shirt being lifted off his back and a strange wild feeling, a desire to retaliate, possessed him and he began to rip at whatever shreds of clothing his fingers landed on. He ripped off a swimming suit top, with someone's help, a suit bottom and various other articles of clothing, until there was no more, and the three of them were stark naked, the water seeping invitingly in and out of whatever orifices and nooks it would find.